The Broken Quiet
by DarkToLight
Summary: They never spoke, mostly for fear of saying the wrong name. Spoilers! -MartelxKratos- -YuanxMartel mentioned- -KharlanWar timeline- -T for suggestions of adult activity, nothing graphic- -Infidelity- -Oneshot- R&R please.


Ok, let's start with...

**SPOILERS! SPOILERS! SPOIIILEERRRSS! **Get that? There's a lot in here, I suppose. If you're not on disc 2 I would pretty much forget it. And if you haven't ever had the "Give the assassin's ring back" sidequest there might be a nice few surprises there for ya. I don't know how far through disc 2 you should be... I haven't played for a while. If someone would like to tell me I shall add it.

**Disclaimer: Ich do not own Tales of Symphonia.** If I did, Kratos would not harshly do what he does at the end to his poor son. There, few spoilers there.

**Pairing:** MartelxKratos. Also MartelxYuan, because it has to be, I guess.

First things first (or second): I _know_ that Martel was engaged to Yuan, so if anyone flames me on that basis they will be laughed at. I wrote this because it wanted to be written, if you don't like the pairing, don't freaking read it. (Plus is does state that they are engaged in the story, so if I do get flames because of that you haven't read it.)

**The Broken Quiet**

She was… Cold. Or at least, she got the feeling that she should be cold, even though she felt so numb she could barely feel a thing.

Feeling. That was something she hadn't had for a long while. She touched her fingers to the Rune Crest that glittered over her Cruxis crystal, the thing that Kratos and Yuan had slaved over, had spent so long with, that let her feel again. Let her cry. Let her laugh. Let her sleep.

And she was so numb it barely mattered.

It wasn't the thought of what she had _done_ – no, that was over, it was gone, it didn't matter. What made her so numb was the fact that she knew she would do it again. Over and over again, just because she needed something, _anything_ to make her _feel_ again through the despair she was feeling.

And what made her feel was Kratos.

He never spoke of it, not really. He rarely said a word. He was a quiet human, though, so she doubted that even if they hadn't he would still be so silent. It was she who had approached him – the look in his eyes had at first been wary, but she had turned him around to the idea. The idea of betraying his best friend. Her fiancée. Her Yuan.

"Martel?" He spoke up now, concerned about her as always. "Are you ok? You seem down." She shook her head, let him take her hand, felt the warm – something else that had been denied her until the Rune Crest.

"I'm all right," she murmured. "Don't worry." Still, the worried look in his blue eyes didn't dim.

"You're not alright," he disagreed. "I know you, Martel… Something's up." She just shook her head again, and Yuan sighed and kissed her cheek. "Tell me when you feel you can," he told her softly, knowing that sometimes she liked her space. Didn't everyone? But she more than others, mostly because of the nature of what they were doing…

She looked over at Kratos, then. The source of her numbness. No… That was unfair. She was the cause of it, really. She was just dragging him down with her. Down into the darkness, the cold. She wasn't certain what he really wanted, what he really thought, but she did know he didn't want to be as cold as she had been. She knew what he thought about the crystal in her neck. He despised them, and he always had and would, despite the promise of a longer life. He was human and he would stay that way. It didn't matter to her.

He was with Mithos, patiently teaching her younger brother the art of the sword. It wasn't that Mithos was a slow learner, anything but, but the boy had a tendency to get into bad habits and not be able to shake them. Kratos was teaching him the proper way to do a front swing. Martel sighed. It probably wasn't called that, it probably had some technical name that she didn't know, but it didn't matter. She looked away instead, to watch Yuan keep the fire going with a little kindling and a little magic. Which of them was which in their fire of infidelity, Martel wondered. Perhaps she was both, and Kratos simply the flame that went where it was told.

He came to her that night. Martel didn't know what it was about him, but he always came when she most needed him, without her saying a word. He never spoke, either. He would walk up to her and sit by her, and whatever would happen, would happen. The one thing Martel feared the most was that one day Yuan would see them.

She kissed him, taking him down to the dirt below them, him letting her have her domination. It felt better for her, that way. He let her do what she wished, whatever she wanted with him, even if that meant reversing where they were. He simply followed where she led him, never speaking. What was the point in words? Words attracted attention…

Her hands wandered to his clothes, to the many belts on his outfit.[1 He made a slight noise of acceptance, ran his hands through her hair, all the things a lover would do, should do… Which was only fitting, it was what they were…

Illicit, though, and she hated the deceit, but she needed it. It stoked some fire within her, it kept her alive, the way Yuan never could. It wasn't that she didn't love Yuan, she did, she loved him with all her heart, but only the knowledge that it was so very wrong kept her going…

Kratos meant very little to her in the way of love, really, and he knew it, and never spoke of it aloud.

He lay back on the dirt and let her redress him once they were done. He looked up a the sky, only once turning his bright, rust-red eyes to her, and she saw… Nothing, really. Just a quiet understanding and an allowance of sorts. She knew he liked to watch the stars when he couldn't sleep. She knew he never tried to impose what he thought on anyone else. She knew he would stay by her, at least for a little while. Not like Yuan, not the whole night through, and it wouldn't… Mean much, not really. But it would simply _be_.

When she woke the next morning he was gone. It didn't surprise her, really. He always was. Gone. It was in his nature. He was uncertain, flighty, almost, like a bird, but then like a cat, always ready to strike, to protect them. And Yuan would always wake her, it wouldn't do for them to be seen together. That would only ever cause problems. And no words were ever said about the fact that perhaps her clothes were a little dirty, about the bite marks on either of their necks that they would cover. Kratos more than her. She could always make Yuan believe that it had been him, for her. He was so forgetful at times…

Kratos left her be for the next few days. That was fine, she didn't need him. She wasn't as numb any longer. She walked with Yuan under the stars, and they laughed quietly and spoke in hushed whispers, and it was full of love, of longing, of need, so very different to when she was with Kratos. She didn't love Kratos. She _couldn't_ love Kratos. She just had to be with him. She knew he probably didn't love her. Did it matter? She wondered vaguely why they did what they did. It wasn't jealousy – Kratos was happy for her and Yuan, had pressured his friend into proposing to her, even. It wasn't spite – she loved Yuan. She had no desire to hurt him. Yet she did. Time and time again, not that he knew it.

In the woods close to the broken corpse of the Kharlan tree, Kratos pressed her to the wood of a living oak and bit her neck, trailed kisses down her body, gave her what she asked for so silently, without words. She closed her eyes, her hands in his unkempt hair, but never said a word. They were always so afraid to speak. Not only because it might attract attention, but fear that perhaps they would say something wrong. she did it when she was with Yuan, too. Never used his name. Never called it out, for fear that she might call out to Kratos. Because the human made her feel so good.

They walked with resolution up to the tree, Kratos' cape-like flaps of fabric blown backwards by the wind that whistled through the dead branched. Yuan gave her a comforting look – after today, it would be over. They could leave the war behind. And then what? Live in peace? Martel didn't know if her numbness would go away. She simply feared what would happen if she had to run to Kratos again. Or would he come to her, knowing, like he always did, that she needed him to make her live again?

They had so little warning. Martel had barely turned before the arrow thudded into her flesh, followed by another, both Kratos and Yuan calling out in fear and anger, so vocal, that human, now! Her eyes were clouding over, she _felt_, rather than saw, that Mithos had summoned, that Kratos was cutting into those of his own race in sheer anger, that Yuan was by her side, healing magic desperately being pushed into her, doing so _very_ little. Her blood was on him. She looked up, pain in her eyes that was deeper than that of the arrow wounds. Kratos was stood, on the edge of her vision, Mithos kneeling by her, calling to her, over and over again. _Sister, sister, don't go! Don't die! Don't leave me alone!_ Weakly, she raised a hand. The tree's seed was pulsing in her, she could feel it in her veins. She could give something to the world to make up for the horrific sins she had committed to her Yuan.

"I…" She whispered. Kratos looked at her, and she saw the keening longing in his eyes that he had always hidden. Love! He had always loved her. He was so sad… So desperate for another way. He had hidden it, kept it secret, done only as she had wanted, been so _attuned_ to her, watch her give herself away to Yuan and use him. _Use him_. For that was all she had done… Betrayed both the men who had loved her.

"Yuan…" She managed. He held her hand, tears dancing in his eyes and painting crystal trails down his cheeks.

"Martel… Please… P-please… Stay with me… D-don't go…" He begged. Martel could feel her life fading. The Great Seed calling.

"I'm… So sorry…" She whispered. Yuan sobbed out, holding her to him, calling her name, again and again. _Martel, Martel, Martel._ Calling her name as she had never dared to say his.

_I'm so sorry I betrayed you, my love. My Yuan._

Kratos' eyes were dry as her eyes closed and she died, letting her soul flow into the Great Seed, but inside, he was torn apart.

_I won't let anyone else die this way whilst I stand and watch, Martel. I promise._

_I love you._

* * *

**_[1_**: According to Tales of Fandom (actually an official game, believe it or not) Kratos wears his Cruxis wear when they are traveling during the Kharlan war. 

Reviews would be nice. I'm always looking to improve.


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